paradisalogs | Oh, but how were we to know?

Who: Joshua and Lucrezia
What: to carnage or not to carnage; that is the question
When: after Lloyd's departure
Where: the creepy mansion
Rating: ~~adults beware, children welcome~~ let's say PG-13!

The letter came bearing the name Lloyd Irving; easy enough to recognize when he was the only man to have crafted for her the first real set of pearls in Paradisa. There is still a difference between objects that appear out of thin air and those that take hard work and care to pound and carve into shape. The latter has value, albeit mostly sentimental, while the former has none whatsoever. To think he would send a letter to Joshua, most curious.

Lucrezia must make an incongruous sight with the lavish pearls now about her neck, with her bare feet and otherwise plain white nightgown (never mind that it's already late in the morning), like a child playing dress-up with her mother's jewelry. At least her hair is loosely coiled down her back, if only to show the earrings more clearly and make her quiet enough to sneak up on Joshua, as if that's even possible. She needs only to follow the music to its source, the sound of the piano echoing through all the hallways, holding her breath as she walks on tiptoes behind him.

She thinks he must already notice her presence even before she stepped into the room, but it is fun to pretend. Sometimes he might be distracted enough that he might be genuinely surprised, or perhaps he would pretend for her. She moves to tickle his sides even as she wraps her arms about his waist, giggling in his ear in lieu of a hello.

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It's all makebelieve. Lucrezia can hardly feed herself without the castle's help. Going anywhere would be a struggle. But haven't they always lived on stories and possibilities?

She holds his hands close to her chest, bringing one up to kiss his knuckles. They smell of iron, blood, but she tries a smile still. "Anywhere. Beyond the dead zone. I heard there are giraffes that speak."

It most certainly is. There would be nowhere they can go, not in the Live Zone. He can be fast, he can hide, but she is different. In every way she would slow him down and be a risk, but would that matter?

Would reason stop him, now as more and more whispers continue to nibble just inside his ears, tickling and hurting just enough to make him shake his head again. With his hands taken away, that seems the next best thing, but isn't that the same logic a dog with an itch might use?

"I would just be weaker. I would just be like then." He doesn't know that it would be, or could be different. "I shouldn't...go there. I couldn't be strong enough."

Lucrezia clasps their hands together so he can't pull them free so easily, still putting on a brave smile even if she knows that he can't see it. Perhaps it is more to her benefit. She needs to believe her own stories before she can make him follow her after all.

"You would not need to be strong because we will be safe. No enemies, no secret weapons."

The silence is heavy, maybe because it can be difficult to tell if he's able to hear when in moments like this, or if he's already long gone. But then there's a shuffle of his feet as he moves closer to her, as if hearing a tale of adventure from a storyteller.

But there's still more silence, as again there is a struggle to choke out sense and not only bile.

"You need me strong." She prefers him strong.

Power is the reason. Or was. Between her brother's departure and his warnings, she wanted someone she could trust to protect her against enemies too close for comfort. She wants him strong and he has always known. His part was to keep her warm, as he says, and hers to make what noises entertain him.

Lucrezia grips his hands tighter to reassure him that she is still here, now. "We are long past that."

"Long past."

His breath is big, deep, held inside him and then released like it's a sigh for the sake of the world itself, and his fingers curl against hers. "So much is long past."

She holds her breath even as he sighs, swallowing tensely as if bracing for something. Rejection. Another vacant stare. But nothing comes.

"This has yet to come. You will have an adventure and I shall write a book about it."

"Mm... The story to be told..." She's talking about books, and he likes to read books. Whatever book she writes, he should read. Whatever it's meant to be about, he's already forgotten seconds into thinking of it.

He smiles, but it's then his gaze fully wanders, as much as his own voice seems to and even his attention. Where were they going? Are they still? "Then I'll stop everyone."

Lucrezia lets go of his hand, but just one of them and only so she can push back the hair from his face to tuck the longer strand behind his ears. Testing the waters. It seems they are forever going one step forward two steps back, or sideways, somewhere other than where they are meant to go. She wonders if there will come a time when enough is enough, but not now.

"Everyone but us?"

No.

Joshua will never be so gone, so far away among the abandoned Astral Line that he can ever forget that knowledge that Aion had drilled into his mind even more than the noise could. That noise which has surely caused his ears to bleed by now. It would feel better if they could bleed, maybe that's all that needed to get out. No, he needs to focus. Her touch helps, rather than hurts.

"I'm not...that strong."

To encompass all of Paradisa would take immense energy. And while it's no guarantee, it's highly likely that doing so would stop him as well. It would consume all, for he is after all still human. Like Joshua had said earlier... And me.

"Everyone."

When it comes down to it, Lucrezia doesn't want to die.

Even if he stops her, Joshua could bring her back if he chooses to, unless that dreaded purple light takes him too. Then there will be no going back. Even death cannot touch her then, let alone the castle free her. With no sign of him reacting badly to her touch, she drops her hand to the nape of his neck that she might draw him into an embrace, awkward as it might be. She hopes keeping him warm will keep him present.

Her voice is but a whisper. He can hear her regardless, and did he not give her the choice? "Let me hold you. Tonight. And in the morning I will give you my answer."

Oh, but how were we to know?

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